Have you ever felt like everyone else got the memo on how to fit in, but you were stuck trying to decipher the fine print? I’ve been there. Growing up in Boulder, a town where the unofficial uniform is Patagonia fleece and a reusable water bottle clipped to your hip, you’d think finding my "people" would’ve been as easy as a hike up Flatirons. And yet, for most of my twenties, I felt like the odd one out at gatherings where everyone seemed to either know their place or be nailing crow pose while discussing fermented foods. It was a weird flavor of loneliness: not entirely isolated, but not belonging, either.

Finding a community that makes you feel seen—that accepts your quirks and amplifies your voice—isn’t as straightforward as meeting people who enjoy hiking or love a good farmers’ market. It requires something deeper: a willingness to get vulnerable, explore your interests, and sometimes awkwardly try again when you feel like you’re not clicking.

Let’s journey through how I found my "tribe" and how you can, too. Spoiler: It probably doesn’t involve kombucha-making class (unless that’s your thing).

The Mirage of Instant Bonds

Let me dispel a myth first: You don’t “find your people” in one magical moment. I used to have this rom-com vision of bumping into a group at a local coffee shop while discussing the ethics of forest management over oat milk lattes. My witty commentary would spark laughter, and boom: found family. But here’s the thing—building a meaningful community isn’t a cinematic meet-cute. It’s more like a long road trip in a second-hand Prius: a bit bumpy, sometimes sweaty, but ultimately worth the miles.

I learned this the hard way when I moved to Seattle for a fellowship in my mid-twenties. I arrived starry-eyed, imagining I’d step off the plane and immediately connect with fellow environmentalists who lived for both climate action and NPR Tiny Desk concerts. Instead, I spent my weekends solo, wandering REI’s flagship store under the pretense of “just browsing.” I’d RSVP to meetups, hoping to feel that instant click, only to head home replaying awkward small talk where I second-guessed whether joking about composting was too niche.

Lesson? Instant connections are rare, and that’s okay. Real community grows through shared moments and patience, not a perfect opening line.

The "Flirt Phase" of Friendship

Finding your tribe can feel a lot like modern dating—minus the swiping, hopefully. And just like dating, there’s often an awkward flirt phase: putting yourself out there, testing the vibe, and trying not to read too deeply into a lackluster response to your hand-knit beanie (I still stand by its aesthetic appeal).

Here’s what helped me shift gears: rather than looking for "my people" from day one, I started approaching community-building as a series of mini-adventures. I signed up for an intro climbing course at my local gym—mostly because I realized holding onto a rock wall for dear life gives you a built-in start to conversation. A colleague invited me to their book club where, to my surprise, nobody quizzed me on the book (thank goodness, because I only skimmed it). Slowly, these moments turned into deeper friendships, even if they started with small, awkward beginnings.

Pro Tip: Experiment with low-stakes social activities. Trivia night, hobby groups, or volunteering are great places to start—it’s less pressure than deep, soul-baring conversations over dinner, but more meaningful than making awkward eye contact over chia pudding at brunch.

Knowing the Difference Between "Your People" and “Any People”

Let’s get real for a second: I’ve chased connections with people I didn’t fully vibe with just out of a need for company. There were the tech guys in Seattle who talked Bitcoin every. Single. Happy hour. Or the local hiking group that never met a selfie they didn’t like (even mid-trail, which is honestly unforgivable). As nice as everyone was on the surface, I felt out of sync—and eventually, I stopped forcing it.

A turning point came when I stumbled into a backyard storytelling event in Boulder last year. A friend brought me along, and though I was skeptical (storytelling events sounded like they’d be 90% improv actors in flannel), I instantly felt the difference when I walked in. The space buzzed with raw honesty, like everyone had decided collectively to drop their guards at the gate. By the end of the night, between heartfelt confessions and shared laughter over someone’s disastrous attempt at home brewing, I wasn’t just mingling—I was connecting.

Here’s the truth: genuine relationships take time to build, but the spark of recognition—that feeling of "Oh, these are my kind of weirdos”—can still hit you. Pay attention when it does, and lean in.

Be the Lighthouse, Not the Rowboat

Here’s a metaphor that stuck with me when I felt adrift: instead of chasing connection like a rowboat frantically trying to find a harbor, try being a lighthouse. That is, focus on what grounds you—your interests, values, and truth—and let that light draw the right people in. (I know, this almost sounds like something you’d needlepoint on your great-aunt’s throw pillow, but trust me: it’s solid.)

For me, this meant leaning harder into things that gave me joy, even if I was doing them solo at first. I started attending climate action panels and open mic nights, not because I expected to find my next BFF there, but because I genuinely loved them. Honing in on what brought me joy turned a corner in my relationships: when you show up as your authentic self, you attract others who resonate with it. Walking into a space not thinking, “Will they like me?” but instead, “I hope they’ll understand what I bring to the table” changes the vibe entirely.

Takeaways for Finding (and Keeping!) Your People

  1. Start Where You Are: You don’t need to overhaul your hobbies or persona to find your tribe. Do what you already love—whether that’s exploring state parks, hosting a movie night, or debating the correct s’more ingredients (for the record: marshmallow char is a must). Your people are out there; give them a chance to catch up to you.

  2. Say Yes to the Invite: Remember the storytelling event I mentioned? I wouldn’t have met half my current circle if I hadn’t gone. Even if the invite feels outside your comfort zone—say yes. Not every event will be life-changing, but you never know which one will surprise you.

  3. Don’t Rush It: Building a sense of belonging isn’t Amazon Prime; there’s no two-day delivery option. The friendships and support systems worth having take time, trust, and shared experiences to flourish. If it feels slow, that’s normal. Stick with it.

  4. Quality Over Quantity: Aim for depth, not crowd size. A tight-knit, supportive circle of just three or four people who truly get you is far more valuable than a rolodex of acquaintances.

Your People Are Out There—Don’t Give Up

Finding your people isn’t about luck or location—it’s about intention. It might take some false starts and a little patience, but the connections you’re looking for are possible. Whether you meet them at a lumberjack-themed trivia night (yes, this exists) or bond over shared Spotify playlists, they’re worth the effort.

And if you’re reading this from a place of frustration, know that we’ve all been there: the moments of longing when it feels like everyone’s “got their group” but you. Trust me, this isn’t a permanent state. As someone who’s finally found their mismatched group of storytellers, climbers, and Sunday morning brunch buddies, I can tell you it’s worth every misstep along the way.

Keep going. Your people want to meet you, too.